The Things They Carried
by michi1207
Summary: After the War, Harry Potter finds himself and his friends finishing up their last year. Are new friendships forged? Or is it all for naught? Slightly AU, even for the fandom; rated T just in case
1. Chapter 1

**I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS (EXCEPT ANY ORIGINALS). MERELY THE PLOTLINE (the parts that weren't in the books/movies) IN WHICH THIS STORY TAKES PLACE. THE CHARACTERS AND MAJOR PLOTLINES BELONG TO THE QUEEN JK ROWLING.**

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Snow covered the grounds, and the air was cold, thick, and silent. Christmas break had finally arrived at long last. Though the war had been fought - and won - half a year previous, it was only recently that fears were being assuaged - fears that the Dark Lord hadn't truly died but, much like last time, was merely biding his time to reassemble his regime and regain his power. After, and only after, the _Daily Prophet_ released letters from Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter were the fears somewhat laid to rest. Harry supposed only time would banish the rest.

As for himself, Harry had come back to Hogwarts, mainly at Hermione's insistence. Even Ron agreed with his girlfriend.

"C'mon, mate, what harm would come from finishing our seventh year without having to worry about you being hunted by Voldemort, or to find and destroy those bloody Horcruxes?"

Now, Harry was walking around the spacious grounds, taking in all the sights. The castle had been reconstructed, the Quidditch pitch rebuilt, and Hagrid's hut replaced. He was unsure as to whether the Room of Requirement was still there - he'd been terrified the useful room was too damaged from the Battle and the Fiendfyre, and hadn't attempted to access it in fear of learning the heartwrenching news. His breath came out in quick puffs as he began the trek to the pitch. Quidditch had been his game since year one, but this term, his new Firebolt had remained in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry's mind travelled back to the war, as it had been doing as of late. His heart ached in his chest again when he thought of all the people the world had lost and couldn't have been saved. An image of Fred Weasley popped up in his brain, and Harry couldn't help but smile. Thanks to Luna's rapid thinking at the Ministry of Magic in their fifth year, she'd been able to produce one of the only remaining Time-Turners in order to save the few she was able to. She hadn't been able to go back too far; there were still so many gone - Sirius, Dobby, Dumbledore... But the ones who were saved made up for it: Teddy would have his parents. The Weasleys were a whole family again. Colin and Dennis were reunited once more. Harry was more than proud to call Luna Lovegood his friend, no matter how odd she was.

He'd been so into his thoughts that he hadn't noticed somebody in the stands. He quietly climbed up to stand at the edge of the seats and looked over at the person. There no mistaking the sound of the person crying, nor was there any doubt as to who it was.

"Malfoy?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer; I DO NOT own the characters/places/spells/things/etc. I only own the plotlines in which the story takes place (as long as it wasn't in the books/films!) JK Rowling owns the more-than-spectacular everything-else!**

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Back in the common room, Harry sat in front of the fireplace, listening to the snow blowing against the windows. Only a few students had remained at the school during the holidays. Ron and Hermione had pleaded with him to go to the Burrow, but Harry hadn't been able to bring himself to join, though even Hermione's parents were attending the festivities. Looking around the empty dormitory almost made him wish he'd taken his best friends up on the offer.

His curiosity got the best of him, and he went to retrieve his trusty Marauder's Map from his trunk. He saw a total of sixteen students still in the castle: four Ravenclaws, five Hufflepuffs, three Slytherins, and four Gryffindors. Unfortunately for him, the younger ones of his House were in Hogsmeade with Hagrid, leaving him to his own. Harry glanced down at the map again; he quickly found the Slytherin common room. There he was, his footsteps on the map pacing 'round and 'round.

A loud thud at the windows jerked him from his task. He glanced up and saw Errol jumping onto the sill Harry rushed to let the owl into the warm room. Tied to his leg was a scroll of parchment. Harry pulled it off, hastily opened it, and grinned impulsively at Ron's familiar scrawl.

_Harry –_

_How's everything? Mum's pretty upset that you didn't come for the holidays. She doesn't see why you chose to stay behind when no one's there. Fred and George haven't left each other's side…_

_Listen, mate, please come by. It'll make Mum and Dad happy. And don't say you don't want to make it awkward on Ginny – she's pretty much past everything. Believe me. _

_-Ron _

_P.S. Hermione will be writing, too, and sending you our presents. Errol wasn't exactly reliable enough, and Pig, well… Pig's Pig. Sorry! _

With a small chuckle, Harry grabbed a quill and a slip of parchment. Errol took flight toward the Owlery as Harry began writing.

_Ron – _

_Everything's going swell here. It's so weird, though, with everything so quiet. Tell Fred and George I said hello. Have they talked about what you told them? _

_I'm not worried about make Ginny feel awkward. I just don't care to meet her new boyfriend, and I know he's there._

_Happy Christmas, Ron. Send your family my best wishes._

_-Harry _

He set the quill down and through about the twins. Pure astonishment had covered Fred's face when Harry and Luna had told him he'd died but that she'd essentially brought him back from the dead in a way. Fred had thought is was cool in a slightly morbid, depressing sort, but George hadn't taken the news as well. He'd gone off on his own for nearly nine hours, claiming he needed time to clear his head. When'd finally come back, his demeanour was completely different – he'd accepted that he'd lost his brother, but at least he had his partner-in-crime back now. Everyone had agreed telling Molly and Arthur wasn't a brilliant idea, and so the six of them – the twins, Luna, Hermione, Ron, and Harry – had been keeping the secret since.

**..**

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by a coughing sort of noise from the fireplace. He glanced up and nearly shouted in fright. There, amidst the ashes and newly lit coals, was a head.

"Happy Christmas, Harry!"

"Professor Lupin, what are you doing here?"

"I promise Molly I'd check in on you. She's worried about."

"Yea, Ron said so in his letter. How are you and Tonks? And Teddy?"

"Everyone's fine, thanks. How are you doing? And don't lie."

"I'm doing alright. It's kind of lonely, though, but it's fine."

"Tell the truth. Why didn't you go to the Weasleys for Christmas?"

"I…I don't know."

Lupin's face creased with concern. "Harry, what is it you're not telling me?"

"Nothing, I promise."

"Alright, then, if you're sure… I'd best be getting back to the family."

"Merry Christmas."

Once the flames died down to their normal size, Harry trudged up the stairs to the dormitory to grab his Firebolt. Lupin's questions had caused his mind to explode into overdrive. Even he didn't know his own reason for staying behind…

He breathed in the smell of fresh fallen snow, crisp winter air, and smoke coming from the chimneys. He mounted his broomstick and kicked off the frozen ground. The cold air stung his eyes, yet he increased his pace. There was a sudden rush of liberation as he flew above the Astronomy tower and over the Forbidden Forest. In an instant, he remembered what had always been his favourite part of flying: the sensation of complete freedom. He halted in mid-air, high above the grounds, and stared around. The shimmering lake reflected the light of the setting sun; his eyes caught the movement of a figure walking toward the Quidditch pitch. Harry couldn't possibly mistake the lean body, pale skin, or flash of blonde hair, even from his perch in the sky, for anybody else.

Draco looked shocked when Harry landed beside him. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I go to school here."

"I meant _here_, on the pitch."

"I felt like going for a little fly, but I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy."

"Just decided to go for a walk."

"Isn't your mum expecting you home for the holidays?"

"That's none of your business."

Harry took the hint, shouldered his broom, and headed back to the castle. He could feel Draco's eyes still trained on his back. In the Entrance Hall stood Nearly Headless Nick, Professor McGonagall, and Filch. Apparently, Peeves was up to his old tricks when it came to pranking the students – if Filch's face was any indication. Harry tried skirting around them; however, McGonagall saw him before he could evade them entirely.

"Argus, please fill the Bloody Baron I on what Peeves had done. He'll sort everything out. Thank you, both of you, for bringing this to my attention. Now, if you'll both excuse me. Potter!"

"Professor?"

"Come with me."

She led him to her office and motioned for him to have a seat. "Molly Weasley sent me an owl this morning, imploring me to, as she said, make you see reason and go there for the holidays."

"I figured she would. She had Ron write me as well."

"Do you want to stay here at the school?"

"I thought I did."

"Potter, this is absolutely your decision. If you want to go or stay, all you have to do is to say so either way."

"So if I say yes…?"

"Then I can arrange a Portkey."

"Sorry, Professor, but I'm not entirely comfortable with Portkeys."

"Then Floo Network will have to suffice. I'll send your belongings to the Burrow for you."

"Thank you."

Harry stepped into the fireplace and, right before he dropped the powder, saw the portrait of Albus Dumbledore wink with a small smile, those blue eyes twinkling over the familiar half-moon spectacles.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Their faces went from surprised and confused to surprised and ecstatic, within seconds of Harry's arriving in the Burrow's fireplace. He'd barely placed a foot outside the grate when Mrs Weasley engulfed him in a giant hug, pulling him close. The insanely built house was filled with the rich aromas of homemade treats and food. Indeed, Ron was apparently taking advantage of Harry's unexpected entrance as a chance to sneak off with his arms loaded with pies. Mr Weasley shook Harry's hands and gave him a quick grin; he resumed his conversation with another man whose face still bore a stunned expression. Fleur was sitting beside a woman who was staring in puzzled awe at Fred and George's game of wizard's chess. The longer Harry stared at these two unfamiliar faces, the more his brain niggled that he should know them. Suddenly, it clicked: He had met them before, in second year, in Diagon Alley. They were Mr and Mrs Granger.

A tremendous yell from upstairs broke up the easy conversations. Ron came barrelling into the sitting room not a minute later.

"Sometimes, I really hate magic. Your trunk is now in my room, Harry."

Everybody laughed, causing Ron to turn rather pink. Harry followed him up the stairs and sat on the extra bed. His best friend tossed him a pie.

"So, heard from the Dursleys?"

"Actually, my aunt did send me a letter with some Muggle money. Dudley sent me candy."

"That was nice of them."

"Uncle Vernon still doesn't acknowledge my existence, though."

"Reckon he's still upset about Voldemort and having to move?"

"Search me. Though I don't think it's so much as Voldemort as having to admit magic is real. So did your mum know I was coming?"

"No, but she was hoping you would. It really hurt her when you didn't show up when Hermione and I did."

Harry nodded slowly and took a bite of another pie. "So, er, how's Ginny?"

"She's alright, I suppose. Haven't really seen much of her. She and Dead are off visiting his family."

"Where _is_ Hermione, anyway?"

"Finishing up shopping with Bill. As if there aren't enough presents for everybody already…"

"Boys! Dinner!"

The rest of the night passed in a blur, and Harry felt less at home than he ever had while at the Burrow. Percy, Bill, and Hermione arrived not long after dessert had been served. Harry gazed around the group of people gathered by the fireplace, all well fed and slightly lethargic from the cosy atmosphere. Voices were low; time passed sluggishly. His mind travelled back to the night Dumbledore had shown him Slughorn's true memory. The memory in which it was revealed that the lumpy professor had told Tom Riddle about Horcruxes. Harry had wanted to hate Slughorn for having told the Dark wizard, no matter how young he had been, that piece of information, but then, he thought of how Slughorn had always been easy to manipulate, easily bribed, and young Tom Riddle's persuasion skills were just too smooth. Slughorn's only crime was being entirely too trusting.

A hand clapped Harry on the shoulder, and he started. Mr Weasley smile down at him.

"Bedtime, Harry. Early rise in the morning."

"Right. Mr Weasley, is there any way I could, er, visit Grimmauld Place before we go back to Hogwarts?"

"Of course! You can go the day after tomorrow. Molly wouldn't very well like you disappearing from Christmas dinner."

"Right," repeated Harry. "Well, goodnight, then."

As he laid in bed that night, Harry wondered, once again, how it would feel to be back in Sirius's old house. And he wasn't quite sure if he was ready.


End file.
